


A Steamy Romance Anthology

by ArcaneAddict



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-04-24 22:30:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14365047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcaneAddict/pseuds/ArcaneAddict
Summary: We've all read and groaned over the truly terrible excerpts from the Steamy Romance novels all over Azeroth that detail the sexual exploits of a truly dedicated paladin named Marcus. Unfortunately, they all stop before the good parts! Please enjoy this completely lighthearted and explicit depiction of Marcus's trysts and trials throughout the lands of Azeroth. They are short, humorous conclusions to the existing works discoverable in the game. Each story starts with the available writing in game and transitions to my interpretation of the logical follow-up.





	1. A Steamy Romance Novel: Savage Passions

A trail of dust followed the once-white stallion as he galloped through the garrison gates, stopping abruptly at the stables. Raven, the stable master, rushed to the weary mount and rider. 

"Lord Marcus, let me help." Raven's strong, tanned arm took the rider's hand in his own, pulling him off in a quick, smooth motion. He did not immediately let go, staring in disbelief at the paladin's heavily stained armor. 

Seeing concern on the man's face, Marcus clasped his shoulder and smiled warmly. "Fear not old friend, only a little of it is my own." 

Raven hugged him fiercely. "That is good to hear!" 

"Yes, yes. I'm fine! The journey was long, and often hard, but I have returned victorious!" Marcus exclaimed as he pulled a bulging sack from beneath his armor, placing it gingerly in Raven's rough, steady hands.  


The inquisitive stable master cupped the bag, squeezing gently to discern the contents without unwrapping the package. 

"Don't be coy, you know what's in there. But I have something even better for you." Marcus said with a knowing smile.

Raven closed his eyes. He held out his hands and spoke calmly, "Give it to me, please." 

His arms flexed slightly as he felt something heavy, strangely warm, and smooth along its length. "Oh, this is, hmm... familiar... okay, yes, I know that part... an enchanted sword!" 

Raven released the glowing weapon from one hand, letting it swing in front of him. 

Marcus looked down and raised his eyebrows. "I'm glad you like it. Certainly not the first you've held?" 

"Never one like this." Raven replied with a wink. 

"We need to work on that grip, it's too tight. Perhaps you have time for some practice?" Marcus asked, peering into Raven's dark brown eyes. 

Raven grinned. "I'll go tie up your horse..." 

He led the sweat-stained horse to the hitching post and looped the reins around it. Hardly had he begun to unsaddle the beast before a strong arm looped around his waist from behind, pinning him against a broad and armored chest.

“Raven, you’re too industrious,” Marcus said teasingly, his breath warm on the other man’s ear, “You should let one of the stablehands do the dirty work.”

The stable master grinned cockily.

“But I like the dirty work,” he purred, “And this poor horse has had a long, hard ride today, he deserves some gentle treatment.”

Pinned as he was, he couldn’t see the frown that crossed Marcus’s face but he could practically feel it as the paladin eased his grip around his waist, a long sigh escaping him.

“You’re right, as always,” Marcus grumbled, “At least allow me to assist you…You might be surprised at how handy I can be in the stables.”

The dark-haired man twisted around, just far enough to see the pout tugging at the corners of Marcus’ full mouth. 

“Mmm, I’d love to see you surprise me,” he teased. 

Marcus never failed to meet a challenge. In a surprisingly short amount of time, the paladin’s horse had been wiped down, blanketed and ensconced safely in his stall. Before the fair warrior had a chance to become impatient, Raven started to remove his heavy plate armor piece by piece. Underneath the inscribed breastplate, Marcus’ shirt clung to his well-muscled chest, stained by the sweat of travel. He followed Raven’s gaze and smiled.

“Now, about your grip- “

He deflated as Raven shoved a towel into one hand and interrupted him.

“First, about your current state,” the darkhaired man chided him, “I believe I heard something about a long hard ride and someone needing to wipe down, hmm?”

The paladin brightened as a thought struck him like a bolt of Light from the heavens.

“And I remember you saying you liked the dirty work,” he murmured persuasively, “Come on now, by the way you handled that magic sword, I know you’ve missed me, Raven.”

He beamed bright as the sun when the stable master relented. After a few half-hearted swipes from the towel, the pair somehow found their way into the nearest cozy pile of hay, Marcus tumbling backwards as Raven pushed him into the soft golden bedding.  


“You’re right,” Raven whispered as he straddled the paladin’s muscular waist, “I have missed you, though I’m more interested in a Divine Hammer than a magic sword right now.”

Marcus squirmed underneath him, his cheeks reddening as the other man unlaced his breeches with maddening slowness. Judging by the bulge pressed against his inquisitive hand, Raven could tell the paladin’s journey had been long and hard in more ways than one.

“The way you’re teasing me,” he growled, “You might end up with a Hammer of Wrath instead…oh! Light!”

His complaint broke off in soft cries as Raven’s clever, tanned hand slipped underneath his waistband and wrapped firmly around his cock. The stable master smiled and bent down to kiss him, just under one ear, his dark hair falling forward around his flushed face.

“Now, do tell me if my grip is too tight, dear Marcus,” he said, “You did want me to practice being gentler, right?”

The paladin growled and dragged him down against his chest with one arm, the other hand finding a handful of Raven’s well-shaped ass to grip. 

“Stop using my words against me,” he ordered, “And start using your cock against me.”

Raven moaned as he obeyed, his own arousal quite evident as he dragged his hand up along the paladin’s length, his own pants still annoyingly fastened around his trim hips. Marcus decided to remedy the situation with his calloused and battle worn hands. The rough touch seemed to spur on the lust in Raven’s dark brown eyes that only grew when they were at last pressed together. 

“You do surprise me,” Raven panted, still for a moment between the paladin’s parted legs, his head resting against the other’s chest, “I thought for certain you had the purest motives in mind when you offered to teach me about swordplay.”  
Marcus stroke his hand over his soft dark hair, quelling his impatience for a moment.

“I did,” he protested, “I really did, Raven. I’m a paladin, sworn to uphold the truth…and then you started taking my clothes off!”

The stable master chuckled.

“Maybe I’m more interested in learning about your Oath of Devotion,” he said, “Show me how devoted you can be, Lord Marcus.”

Yet again, the paladin rose to the challenge. In a trice, he reversed their positions, a startled Raven having no time but to gasp in surprise as he fell with his back against the golden straw bed they had made.  
“An Oath of Devotion,” Marcus said, his turn to relish the other’s impatience, “Requires an awful lot of time on one’s knees. Let me illustrate.”

He took Raven to the hilt in his mouth, practiced and capable at handling thrusts that bedeviled most men. The stable master seemed to be more than happy for Marcus to be silent. He, on the other hand, kept making a maddeningly delicious series of gasps and moans as his svelte body arched up from the floor, seeking better purchase against the paladin’s tongue. 

“You’ve…convinced me,” Raven said, his lithe, muscular legs pinning the paladin into place between them, “Practice does…make perfect.”

Marcus hummed in acknowledgement, pleased to finally get approval from the coy Raven. It was a pleasure itself to watch the elusive brunette unwind into mindless whimpers and cries of desire as he ran his tongue over every inch of him in teasing strokes before he took him whole again in his mouth. 

The paladin knew it would not take long for his own desire to overwhelm him, pent up as he was after so many lonely nights of travel. So, he took his time, until finally the stable master fairly writhed with passion, his dark eyes made even darker by the black dilated pupils at their center, his hands curled into white-knuckled fists at his sides.

“M-Marcus,” he stuttered weakly, “Surely you…require some attention yourself…ah! Don’t…don’t want you to feel neglected.”

Lord Marcus used his free hand to pat Raven reassuringly on one tensed thigh, pausing in his ministrations long enough to speak, his beard ticklish against his skin.

“Don’t worry,” he said soothingly, “I’ll be more than ready for you to make it up to me later tonight, maybe after dinner? Just start talking about long hard rides again, and I’ll be up to the task, I am sure.”

He turned his attention back to the stablemaster’s cock. His lusty words had the desired effect. Just as he stroked himself to completion, Raven’s whole body tensed and shook with the force of his orgasm. His legs quivered madly as he came with Marcus’s mouth still wrapped quite firmly around him. He collapsed back against the hay pile as the paladin sat up, his own desire quenched for the moment as well.

“Welcome home, Lord Marcus,” Raven said lazily, his mouth curled into an affectionate smile, “I’m glad to have you back.”

His smile turned into an indignant frown as Marcus grinned roguishly and tossed yet another of the stable’s towels at him.

“Now,” he said, “Something really does need wiped down.”

_Fin._


	2. Stormy Seas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to get all the puns I put in there, just assume the female sailor is a rogue. You can look up rogue abilities on wowhead to grasp the full depth of pun depravity in this smutfest. The line shows where the official in-game story ends and where my writing picks up.

Marcus awoke with a grunt, squinting to make out the dark shadows around him. He was sitting on a cold wooden floor and the air was ripe with the scent of a long night. The room rocked back and forth. Or was that just the hangover? "Where am I?" he mumbled to himself.

A sultry laugh echoed as a strong, shapely figure moved towards him. Marcus rubbed his eyes and focused his senses. She smelled of leather, salt and exotic spices. As he looked into the woman's steel-grey eyes, he became aware of the bars between them. 

'Am I in a cell?' he thought to himself. 'Is this one of Madam Goya's rooms?' he mused further.

"You're in the brig, in case you haven't figured it out," the voloptuous pirate stated with more than a hint of amusement.

Marcus stood shakily, composing himself with a roguish smirk before speaking, "I knew that. It's the brig... on a ship. I'm on a ship, of course."

The woman leaned in closer, gripping the bars with surprising intensity. "

Yes. On a ship. At full-mast, apparently," she added, with a flirtatious glance down and then back up to his face.

Marcus grinned in response, bowing close enough to whisper through the bars, "Half-mast, although the winds seem to be strengthening." He blew gently, catching the thick black hair in the seductive currents of his breath.

She pulled away with a fleeting glance of reluctance, "I'm just here to see if you wanted dinner." She forced a stale piece of bread through the bars.

Marcus plucked the morsel from her hand. "I don't want anything hard right now." He dropped the rigid roll and took her hand, tracing a line from her calloused fingers to the anchor tattoed on her forearm. 

"Do you have any Kul Tiran fare? I've heard it's famous for its... succulence. A rare pleasure to the tongue."

A silence followed his words, interrupted by the sound of the cell door creaking open and a cutlass clattering to the floor. Marcus silently pointed to a belaying pin on the far wall and raised an eyebrow. 

The broad-shouldered woman purred, "Oh? I'd have never pegged you for that."

\-------------------------------------------------

Marcus bit his lip as she turned away to pick up the pin; he hadn’t expected her to fall for that one and her purring enthusiasm was weakening his resolve. ‘Don’t be stupid,’ he told himself ‘You can’t fuck your way out of every situation! Especially when there’s a whole ship of burly seamen above deck!’

_Or could he? ___

__He groaned when a warm, calloused hand slipped into his curly hair and the woman pulled him close against the cold iron bars of the brig._ _

__“You look like you’re lost in thought,” she said, “You’re too pretty to think. I could always pick the lock and then pick your pocket, if you catch my drift.”_ _

__Light, she smelled even better up close. Like cinnamon and cedar and salt-sweat on her dark amber skin. Her tight white blouse just skimmed over the shape of her full breasts, the top four or five buttons at least were undone; the sleeves had been rolled up above her elbows, revealing a tantalizing glance at more blue-hued tattoos on her muscular arms._ _

__“That’s a cheap shot,” he murmured, “When you’re out there and I’m locked up in here. Do you normally take advantage of your handsome male prisoners?”_ _

__He got his hands on her hips as he spoke and ran a finger along the inside of her waistband. Her skin felt like silk over rock; rock-hard abs, that is._ _

__She pressed herself closer, a thick iron bar pressed between her breasts driving home to Marcus just how generously she had been endowed. And, judging by the pert nipples underneath the thin fabric, she was just as eager to remove the barrier between them._ _

__“Oh, pretty boy, normally I just fade into shadows when stowaways fall in love with me…but maybe for you, I could make an exception. It’s a long journey and you look like a good time. Tell me, was it true what I read in your diary? About that Tauren couple?”  
__

__Marcus felt torn, caught between his indignation that his privacy had been violated and his realization that if this lovely sailor didn’t roll his bones soon, he was going to have a serious case of Draenei balls._ _

__“I don’t know,” he rumbled, “Maybe, maybe not. Unlock that door and you’ll find out how flexible I really am.”_ _

__The woman glanced behind her warily and pulled back suddenly._ _

__“Let me just make sure we don’t get ambushed,” she said and crossed the room to the door. She pulled down a bar and then, with a wink, slid the belaying pin into the lock mechanism for extra security, “Maybe when we’re on land, that big heavy stick can find a better home. Tonight, I want to see that harpoon in your pants.”_ _

__The paladin only felt sad for a moment when he realized that his trick to get his hands on a weapon had failed. After all, it sounded like she had plans for him to survive, even if it was only to serve her lusty desires on land as well as sea. As she worked a rusty key in the lock, Marcus knew the only solution was to keep playing along. He would just have to fuck her senseless._ _

__“I suppose my fate is sealed,” he said, “There’s no evading this encounter.”_ _

__The Kul Tiran sea devil grinned._ _

__“I have an idea,” she said, “Tell me, are you a fan of knives?”_ _

__Marcus barely had a chance to answer before the door creaked open and she was on him like a panther. Damn, the woman had half a head of height on him that she used to her full advantage as she pinned him against the wood wall behind him. He surrendered to the moment, her dark curls falling around his face in fragrant curtains, her mouth pressed on his with urgent need as she tugged open his pants with one hand. With the other, she held a wicked little knife with a hooked end. She pressed the flat of the blade against his bare skin, just under his ribs, the cold metal sending an electric shock up his spine._ _

__“I-could-be-persuaded-to-like-anything,” he panted between bruising kisses._ _

__He arched his back and moaned when she slid the knife up and up along his chest, the sharp blade whispering through the silk fabric with ease. The remnants of his expensive shirt fell away from his shoulders and Marcus felt some satisfaction as the sailor ran admiring eyes over his chest and arms. A Kul Tiran he was not, but he didn’t spend hours wearing heavy plate armor for nothing._ _

__“I thought you were just pretty,” she said by his ear, before catching the tender lobe between her teeth and just scraping gently but not too gently as she pulled back, “It looks like you’re more of a catch than I realized.”_ _

__“So, you’re not planning to throw me back?” Marcus had his hands full, tightly fastened on the firm, plush curves of her ass._ _

__“Oh no, pretty boy. You’re far too big for that.”_ _

__Holy light, that touch on his cock. Warm and rough and surprisingly delicate at the same time, no strumpet’s iron grip on this one. The paladin normally didn’t have a problem spending long hours on his knees (or back) but this stormy-eyed mermaid was going to have him undone very soon if he didn’t get a grip on himself---or get her grip off him! He put his arms around her waist and pulled her down onto the floor with him; they were practically sitting in each other’s laps._ _

__“Allow me a riposte,” he said and managed to slide his hand inside her tight-fitted trousers. Marcus was delighted to find that she felt like silk and velvet everywhere, his fingers sliding home into her heated core with ease. Her breath hitched, and she leaned back, her chin up and eyes closed as she ground against his hand._ _

__“Neptulon’s beard,” she gasped, “Right there---ahh, move your hand and I’ll run you through with my saber---yes!”_ _

__She looked like a sea goddess, her dark red lips flushed and parted, her light grey eyes bright with stormy passion, the very tattoos on her arms seeming to crackle to life with electric energy. Marcus obeyed, though it got increasingly difficult to keep up the same pace and rhythm with his fingers as she pulsed against him, so warm and wet and perfect._ _

__“I want to taste your ocean,” Marcus whispered, his own desperately hard cock neglected between them yet adoring the sight, the hardened sailor now quivering muscles and tiny suppressed whimpers as she came around his questing fingers._ _

__“Fuck,” she said eloquently between breathy gasps, “You need to use that mouth for something other than talking then.”_ _

__Marcus moved quickly, wanting to make sure to ride the waves of her last orgasm to the next. He buried his face between her thick muscular thighs and sighed against her as he put his tongue to work. As soon as he did, her legs tightened alongside his head and muffled his hearing, so the blood rushing in his ears sounded like the ever-present waves of the ocean. He thought that sound only came from seashells, but now he realized the very best place to listen to the ocean was between the legs of a Kul Tiran woman. She tasted even better than she smelled, the hint of salt just a bright note against warm, sweet heat on his lips._ _

__As many people as he had been with, Marcus never had figured out exactly what he did right when he went down on a woman, he just did what felt good to him and it seemed to work. Maybe it was his eagerness to please, the rough scruff of his beard and mustache, the way he tried to drink in every tremble and twitch. He just knew that this tasted as good to him as air to a drowning man. At this awkward angle it was difficult to reach his cock, but he remained rock-hard the entire time. It did feel a touch close to drowning as her legs tightened around him like a vise and she bucked up against his mouth with increasing fervor until he had his arms under her ass, holding her up from the deck, her knees draped over his shoulders._ _

__“So much better,” she breathed, “Should just keep you gagged except for this.”_ _

__The mental picture of spending the next few months tied up and serving this muscle-bound goddess made Marcus whimper. The vibrations of the sound pushed the woman right over the edge at last as she clamped down and her mouth opened in a silent scream of pleasure. He kept right on with hungry licking and sucking, propelling her forward through her orgasm with an acolyte’s devoted intensity._ _

__Her hand finally pushed him back and she pulled herself into a sitting position, the small muscles of her inner thighs still jumping and quivering. Her eyes locked on Marcus, his mouth and beard wet, cheeks flushed, and she beckoned him closer with a crook of one long finger._ _

__“Come here,” she commanded, “You’ve done some good work, cabin boy, but this isn’t over until you put that big thick yard-arm to work.”_ _

__“Aye, aye, captain,” Marcus said happily._ _

__Relaxed and slick from his earlier work, the sailor easily opened to him, wiggling down just a bit to get purchase on the last half-inch of his throbbing cock. She had her knees cocked up and thrown apart, redolent and smiling at him as she leaned back with arrogant ease. Marcus buried his face between her dark breasts and inhaled that addictive scent of her skin as he tried to get every inch of him as much on and in her as possible._ _

__The hair on his skin stood up in goosebumps as she returned the knife to his skin, stroking the cold metal blade against his throat, then down along his spine, never slicing or cutting but letting the weight let him know it was always there as he fucked into her with single-minded intention. She made sure he was watching as she took the blade and ran it down along his tensed thigh, so he saw the fine, dusky hair on his skin fall away under the razor-sharp edge._ _

__“Just in case you thought this was for show,” she said with dark pleasure evident in her voice, “I want you to fuck me like you’d really fuck if you expected to be eviscerated at any moment.”_ _

__Marcus didn’t have to use much imagination. The iron bars, the dark room, the pale scars that stood out on her muscular arms and legs---was it really a far stretch to imagine blood pooled around her feet? Dark, light, red, warm, wet, tight and again and again and again until he put his mouth on one of her muscular arms and bit down on one beautiful faded tattoo, just to keep his cry muffled against that ebony silk skin._ _

__“There,” she murmured approvingly, “Good boy.”_ _

__He was shaking all over and he did feel like a boy, temporarily boneless and stars in his eyes from the intensity. Her long, graceful hand stroked his hair as he dropped his chin over her shoulder and shut his eyes for a moment. Her other hand brushed flat and warm down his back, a reassuring contrast to the cold blade from a moment before._ _

__“Mmm,” he said incoherently, “Are you sure you’re not a mermaid? I hear they can shape shift into beautiful women to seduce innocent men.”_ _

__She laughed quietly._ _

__“I read your diary, remember? I would need an innocent man to seduce first, Marcus.” Her voice turned thoughtful. “I do wonder how you realized that I was the captain though. I suspected you knew when you started up the flattery. Was it all part of your plan to escape the brig?”_ _

__Marcus’s mouth dropped open, but he shut it quickly._ _

__“Of course,” he lied, “I knew all along. So, did it work? Am I to be freed from this unjust imprisonment?”_ _

__Her hand dropped down and she patted him gently on the ass._ _

__“Hmm,” she said, “Maybe. I also read the entry about the demon hunters and I’m curious…and the voyage ahead is long…”_ _

__Marcus hid his smile against her shoulder._ _

__“Oh no,” he said, “Whatever will we find to do?”_ _

_Fin ___


End file.
